


I'm Sketchy and You Sketch

by snarkstark



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Art Student!Steve, College AU, Fluff, Fluff and getting together, M/M, Stony - Freeform, Stony Prompt, stony fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkstark/pseuds/snarkstark
Summary: The teacher wasn’t present yet, but Steve hardly took a register since his eyes were stuck on one thing and one thing only.Tony Stark.Leaning over his desk.Looking through his fucking sketchbook.-Based on the Prompt:"I’m an art student and you just found my sketchbook and you’re going through it. Shit man can you give that back, I don’t care how good you think they are just don’t turn that page… "





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Fangirl_On_Fire for the Prompt! If anyone has any more, please comment below! Enjoy!

It’s not a total creeper move, Steve decided to himself as he sketched Tony Stark from across the art classroom. He wasn't even drawing anything at the moment, but Steve walked past him a minute ago to ‘sharpen his pencil’ and saw a whole page covered in breathtaking schematics, in deep swirling blues, and vibrant 3D shapes which made Steve think about the future. That’s an A for him right there, and he doubted Stark even tried hard. Asshole.

 

Steve could barely believe it when he first walked in; the guy graduated MIT at fifteen, and was already running a company or something. He didn't even get close to sitting near him, since Stark had that annoying charisma around him which draws people like moths to a flame, apparently to his slight irritation since he sat right at the back next to the window. “Why are you doing art?” Someone phrased the question that Steve had been thinking. 

“I was bored.” The genius answered casually, leaning back on his chair and pulling a screwdriver out of seemingly nowhere to twirl in his fingers, despite this being an art class. Bored? He was bored? Steve was torn between awe and anger. Tony Stark had to have so many qualifications in different things it could be a record. But you couldn’t just pick up a pencil and scribble yourself an artwork because you were bored. 

 

Well, apparently you could. Steve was jealous. Tony was still improving, of course, the guy wasn't just perfect at everything - which was a slight relief to discover - and Steve was surprised at how gracefully he took correction or criticism. Watching Tony’s work come to life felt like magic to Steve, the dark haired boy seemed to scrawl the future down onto paper, a single tool to paint the way to a better world. His own art, was different. Less bold, softer in a way. Steve had a gift. 

 

The blond could sketch someone from memory, capturing the sparkle in their eyes, or every curl of tousled bedhead. He always seemed to be drawing feelings instead of pictures, and they were as accurate as photographs. On that first day that Tony arrived, Steve struggled to focus on his work for once. He kept stealing glances at the brunet, who was still twirling the screwdriver and half listening to the professor. It was one of the first habits that he ever noticed about Tony. He always seemed to have tools, and Steve couldn't even begin to image where he kept it all, since his back pockets surely couldn't be big enough. 

 

In fact, once Steve just happened to be across the hall from him, completely by chance of course, he heard his friend Clint ask him if he still has some science sheet, and Tony began to pull things out of his pockets like they were the Tardis while he searched. It sounded like an over exaggeration when he told Bucky about it later, but a whole storm of papers fluttered to the ground, a wrench was tossed into Rhode’s hands while he watched with slight amusement, two screwdrivers were dropped on the floor, a clump of wires that were tightly entwined together, a breakfast bar, a couple of nuts and bolts which fell like painful rain, and rolled off under the lockers, some sort of metal device, a watch which appeared to be broken according to Clint, who was asking why Tony had so much crap in his pockets. To top it off, there was basic necessities like a phone, a wallet, and some sunglasses since it was Summer, and Tony was quite attached to them actually. It's quite the impressive list to say the least, and the science sheet was eventually found. 

Steve briefly considered going up to him right then and asking him where he put it all in a friendly voice, actually introducing himself instead of just watching, but he dismissed the idea. After all, Stark didn't seem to be in a great mood; he was late for something Steve gathered by the way he kept glaring at his (working) watch, and he'd probably just say ‘up my ass.’ Before sauntering off to do something more interesting than talking to Steve. Anyway, thinking about Stark’s ass in any situation was not something Steve should do in the hallway, so he distracted himself with heading to the cafeteria to find Bucky anyway, and recounting the whole story. 

So Steve sat in his seat, and he stared, and he drew Tony Stark without his knowledge. Not creepy. Definitely not weird at all. The subject was to draw someone beautiful, so best friends and couples had paired up, some people printed pictures of their favorite celebrities (one girl looked particularly dreamy over a picture of Jensen Ackles), and Steve was drawing the genius. He probably wasn't the only one either. It wasn't as if he was fawning over the guy or anything, since Steve firmly believed he was an asshole. (“Just your type then, Mr I-can't-choose-a-decent-guy-for shit.”  
“Shut up, Bucky.”) But he was arguably the most beautiful person Steve had ever seen. Soft, tousled hair, which was starting to curl slightly at his neck because he had been putting off a haircut. Dark, thick eyelashes against tanned skin, and an adorable height which made Steve long to just look down at him for all his greatness, which was slightly mean, but he couldn't help it. And his favorite feature, deep, chocolatey eyes, which he hadn't ever seen without the spark of genius in them.

Perfect. But Tony was an asshole, and Steve had seen him with two different girls and one guy in the last week, and God knows what he did on the weekend. (Which was get drunk all of Saturday and invent things all day Sunday, then met Bruce for study group. Because Sunday was his ‘responsible’ day by Rhodey’s orders if you were actually interested in what Tony did). Just as the intricate feature of Tony’s hair, the last thing to be drawn, was finalized, a loud and obnoxious siren sounded and disrupted the class. “Fire alarm.” The teacher announced unnecessarily, and he distinctly heard Tony’s sarcastic, “Oh really, Miss?” From the back of the classroom as he stood up and shoved his screwdriver back in his pocket, but making no move to preserve his art work. Typical. Despite being told not to take anything, Steve makes a move towards his art book, but catches sight of Bucky fighting his way through the single minded swarm of students to stand outside his door and wait for him, making sure he was safe. Bucky always did. So he left it, and followed everyone else fileing out the door. “Darn it.” He mumbled, looking back at his sketchbook. He doubted it was a real fire anyway, but his sketchbook was his favorite possession. He turned back around when he heard loud snickering from next to him, and saw Tony Stark laughing as he strolled carelessly through the corridor as if he wasn't scared of fire. He probably wasn't. He probably had billion dollar burn insurance or something. 

“What?” He asked the brunet, raising an eyebrow.

Tony Stark smirked at him, lips quirking up on one side in a way that Steve was definitely going to draw later, and Steve felt the full extent of Stark’s charisma, since he felt the unexplainable urge to make him smile again, and even better, have his attention. In answer, Tony elbowed him lightly on the way out and smacked his hands to his cheeks. “Oh, golly gosh, darn it. I’m sorry, sir.” Tony mocked him slyly, in an overly sweet voice, looking up at him from under his eyelashes like sugar wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Then he winked, his face morphing from sweet to wicked in a second, and disappeared into the crowd of students. Steve stood still for a minute, barely able to process. He’d just been mocked, but was confused since there hadn’t been t a single trace of venom in Tony’s voice. And maybe he’d been slightly too interested in Tony calling him sir, and talking sweetly, but he was a single college student - so sue him. 

Bucky’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “You wanna burn to death or somethin’, Stevie?” He asked him, grabbing his sleeve to tug him along. They were some of the last students out of the school, and Steve caught sight of Tony again, still joking about something or other, he usually was after all, but to his actual friends. James Rhodes, a tall athletic guy who was studying to become a pilot, Clint Barton, who was probably here to win a bet or something, and seemed to have no general life plan apart from eat and do archery, as well as pining for Natasha Romanoff. Lastly, Bruce Banner, who was Tony’s science buddy or something, Steve wasn’t sure, he had only caught glimpses of their fast paced conversations, science vocabulary far out of his mind’s reach. Stark was a year younger than he was, so he was lining up not too far away from where Steve and Bucky were standing. The register was taken, and everyone was safe. It actually wasn’t a drill, just a minor explosion in the labs. Guessing by the way Tony literally couldn’t stop snickering, and Bruce was looking embarrassed, it might have been Banner’s fault. The lines were allowed to go back inside in age order, so Steve watched as Tony merged back into the crowd and headed back to the art classroom, while promising to Bucky that he’d be at his game tonight. Bucky was a gifted athlete, and Steve had no doubts he could make it. The college had great sports facilities, and Bucky had scored a sports scholarship to the place. 

“Why do you even still ask? I’ve been to every game since we got here.” Steve pointed out. 

“Thought you might have a hot date with, Stark.” Bucky smirked knowingly and Steve flushed.

“Shut up, Buck. He’s an asshole. A charming one maybe but…” Steve shrugged and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve never dated anyone who’s not a total ass.” He pointed out. Steve, to his frustration, couldn’t argue this in the slightest, so he just scowled as they were dismissed. “See ya, Steve.” Bucky waved and started to run back to the football pitch with the rest of his team, while Steve pushed his way back through the halls towards the art room. As quiet as he usually was, Steve couldn’t ever resist the draw of the game, or the draw of a fight if it was for a good cause. He hadn’t been able to resist it back when he was scrawny kid, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun after he shot up and gained the build of a military Captain or some shit.

He soon found himself at the doorway of the classroom, and there were only a few people in there since most people had taken the fire alarm as an opportunity to dwardle and talk with their friends. The teacher wasn’t present yet, but Steve hardly took a register since his eyes were stuck on one thing and one thing only.

Tony Stark.

Leaning over his desk.

Looking through his fucking sketchbook. 

The genius must have felt Steve staring at him, because he looked up, and didn’t look remotely ashamed of himself. “You’re really talented. I can’t even remember the last time I was jealous, so congrats.” He said absently, flicking another page over. Panic struck Steve like lightning. What if Tony saw the drawing of him? Steve would look like a total stalker. “Um, thanks.” He said as politely as he good, not giving two shits about how good Tony Stark thought his artwork at the moment. “Can I have it back?” He asked, and his voice was just a hint too desperate, because Tony’s eyes lit up with mischief and he simply flicked through faster, getting terrifyingly close to the end. “Why, you drew naked men for our beauty assignment or something?” Stark smirked, and Steve started to cross the room. Like a literal five year old, Tony darted away and turned another page. Steve made a fruitless grab for it, and closed his eyes against the inevitable. “No naked guys then.” Tony tossed the sketchbook back towards him, and it landed on the desk with a slap.

Steve opened his eyes and met Tony’s, and he could see that he knew. That he’d seen. “Listen I - “

“Stalker.” Which was exactly what Steve had expected to hear, but not in that tone. Stark’s voice was harmless, and amused and teasing. Not accusing or angry or disgusted. “Go on a date with me?” Stark asked him casually then, leaning back against a desk and raising an eyebrow. Steve was stunned, because this boy, no matter how genius, just randomly asked him out. “No way. You’re… sketchy.” Steve scoffed, stepping back. Tony looked affronted, and pouted. “So? I’m sketchy, and you sketch. Let’s date.” Tony replied as if that were the most logical reasoning in the world. Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m heading to the game tonight. Does Tony Stark do football games?”  
“For handsome blonds? Usually.” Tony smirked back, obviously happy now. What a smooth motherucker, Steve thought. Still, he wasn’t going to let this five foot nothing little shit take control for long. He leaned in and took Tony’s jaw, finding his confident self coming out for once, and kissed him hard. “Don’t be late, kid.” He ordered, picking up his sketchbook before Tony could cause anymore trouble with it. “Ki-” Tony’s protest was halfway from his lips when the bell rang, and Steve left smoothly, marvelling at his own well… non-awkwardness really. It was probably the most confident and impressive that Steve had ever managed to be in front of a date. Feeling quite proud of himself, he finally let the flush spread over his cheeks and went to find Bucky, who promptly called him a dork, and told him to make sure Tony supported the home team. 

-

The night was warm, and apparently somewhere the art class and kick off, Tony had decided that he wanted to try. He wasn’t sure exactly what had bought it on, probably Steve let’s be honest, but he couldn’t be bothered to fight it, and deep down he knew that he’d been longing for date that hung on his arm for more than a night. It wasn’t as if they didn’t want to stay, but Tony didn’t connect with any of them, and most of them could hardly hold an interesting conversation. 

So he just charmed them and they both got what they wanted out of it usually, Tony tended to pick the girls who wouldn’t get too heartbroken and sad about it. But this was something else. This was a handsome boy in his art class, whose drawings made Tony’s heart ache, and bright blue eyes made Tony feel like he should try being honest for once. So, he figured, why not? What could possibly be wrong with trying one, proper date? So Tony pulled on a pair of tight, designer jeans, and the school football team shirt that he must have picked up at orientation or something. He styled his hair to it’s usual perfection, and grabbed his phone and his wallet, which was stuffed with a bunch of cash. He wondered briefly what role he would be playing in the couple tonight. Usually, he was the charmer, the man. But, earlier today… that kiss. Steve didn’t look like he was going to take any of his shit. 

He left, and since it was such a beautiful Spring night, that he didn’t bother with a jacket. The mansion that he lived in was only minutes from the college, so it was no time before his expensive, red car was drawing up in the packed parking lot, and he followed the steady trail of students flooding towards the stadium. He caught sight of Steve who was leaning over the edge of the bleachers, putting Barnes’s hair in a ponytail for him. Or maybe it was a plait, Tony couldn’t tell from that distance, so he made his way through the fast filling rows until he reached Steve. Barnes looked him up and down, slowly and unashamedly before offering him a smile and a, “Nice shirt.” 

“Who’d I be if I didn’t support the Black Panthers?” Tony replied, grinning at him. “Good luck, Barnes.” There was a small pause, a deciding pause, until the footballer came to a decision. He gave a brief nod to Steve, and then turned to Tony, pulling on his helmet. “Call me Bucky. Enjoy the game.” Steve shot Bucky a grin that was half pride and half delight as he jogged into the field, and the crowd cheered. “Why do I feel like I just passed some sort of test?” Tony asked with a grin, as they clambered over bleachers to their seats, some of the best in the stadium thanks to Bucky. “Because you did.” Steve replied helpfully, grinning at him. 

Tony rolled his eyes and sat down, grinning back as the game started. “Are you happy you said yes?” He asked.  
“I was already coming to the game, and I didn’t see the harm in letting you come along, kid.” Steve retorted with a smile.  
“Quit calling me kid, would you? I’m only a year younger than you.” He protested.  
“Whatever you say, midget.”  
“Geez, ask a guy on a date and all you get is verbal abuse.” Tony pretended to look hurt, and Steve laughed, throwing an arm around the brunet’s shoulders. Bucky scored at that moment, and Tony cheered, leaning into Steve comfortably, enjoying the warmth and the comfort. 

“You gonna keep taking art?” Steve asked with curiosity, once the game was won and they walked back to the car park, drinks in hand. Tony leaned up and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, making him stumble backwards out of surprise. Still, Tony’s sense of control was short lived, as a second later he was pressed against his car and being kissed within an inch of his life. A gentle bite to his lower lip encouraged him to part his lips, and he did so willingly. If anyone noticed them at the edge of the parking lot, making out over the hood of Tony’s car, they didn’t say anything. The only reason that Tony pulled away was the need to breathe, and even then he was reluctant. 

Pressing into Steve’s chest, he mumbled, “My dorm?”

“To sleep.” Steve replied gently, and Tony pouted like a kid. 

“Prude.” He teased.

“Gentleman.” Steve corrected. 

“Are all artists frigid?”

“Are all engineers needy?” 

“Needy? I’ll have you know - “ Steve cut him off with another kiss, effectively ending his stream of bullshit. Tony didn’t complain.


End file.
